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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117179">Subway Rides</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice'>Sleepless_Malice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fëanorian Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, COVID-19, Coronavirus, Crack-ish, Fashion &amp; Couture, Gen, Siblings, Subways, The Author Regrets Nothing, germaphobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:33:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>COVID-19 has already reached the US. Celegorm and Caranthir won't abandon their shopping trip to NYC.</p><p>written for Fëanorian Week 2020</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caranthir | Morifinwë &amp; Celegorm | Turcafinwë</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fëanorian Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Feanorian Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Subway Rides</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Subway Rides</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>It's Tuesday, just after noon – too late for Celegorm’s liking.</p><p>They’ve left the hotel much later than originally planned since Caranthir had insisted to check the news first, which translates to checking five different newspapers online; three broadcasting stations; the tabloids – just everything that is available. Caranthir has always been obsessed with the news, of late more than ever. Sure enough, it has given Celegorm plenty of time to tame his hair into a messy bun; trying on each and every sweater he’s brought along until he’s satisfied with his outfit. In the end, he had decided for a brand-new Balenciaga hoodie, white with neon-green letters on its front that goes so well with his sneakers.</p><p>*</p><p>“Three confirmed cases in New Jersey already! That’s one more than yesterday,” Caranthir calls from the main room of the hotel.</p><p>Celegorm rolls his eyes in front of the mirror, fixing his brows. “How many people live in New Jersey?” he asks, groaning.</p><p>“Almost nine million,” Caranthir answers, sounding entirely unimpressed.</p><p>“Don’t make such a fuss of it,” Celegorm says, stepping out of the bathroom. Then, as his gaze lands on his brother, he bursts out laughing. “You really brought along a face mask?”</p><p>Caranthir shrugs, in that way that is so typical for him, with furrowed brows. He’s smoothing his black pants with his palms, looking down at an assortment of sneakers. “Uhm, precautions? I know you don’t give a fuck about the situation.”</p><p>“Because these kinds of masks are entirely useless,” Celegorm shakes his head, still laughing. “You could at least have dyed it black to match your outfit.”</p><p>“Idiot,” Caranthir says, giving his brother his middle-finger.</p><p>“You look oddly charming.” Celegorm pulls out his phone, casually leaning against the wall with his other hand running through his hair. “Just stay like this, you need a new photo for Tinder anyway.”</p><p>“Fuck off!” Caranthir yells, covering his eyes with his hand.</p><p>It’s a surprise Caranthir has left the hotel at all (though admittedly, much persuasion from Celegorm was needed).</p><p>*</p><p>The doors slide shut and the train just jerks forward, with people stumbling backward, clinging to the ring-shaped handles. Caranthir shudders in disgust – he would never touch anything in the metro willingly. It’s filthy and disgusting, full of germs. In contrast to Celegorm, he tries to take up as little room as possible, mostly to avoid standing closer than he likes to anyone, whilst Celegorm seems to deliberately take up as much room as possible; it’s even worse when he sits, the exact reason why they are still standing.</p><p>“We shouldn’t have come here,” Caranthir rasps the moment somebody coughs far away, giving Celegorm a vaguely disbelieving stare for casually holding onto a pole. Like that, he’ll bring the virus directly to their room for Celegorm isn’t known to wash his hands properly.</p><p>Celegorm looks up from his phone. The noise he makes isn’t much of a response at all. “Mhm?”</p><p>“Coming to New York,” Caranthir says, a little louder this time, giving the coughing guy a stare. “It’s so many people.”</p><p>Celegorm shrugs, giving his brother an incredulous stare. The train is hardly full. “It’s not even rush-hour and you already complain?” he says, beginning to unwrap a lollipop he’s bought in a Japanese sweet shop the day before. “Isn’t that the reason why we decided to go in the first place? Apart from the shops, that is?”</p><p>They aren’t from the city; teenagers growing up in the wealthy suburbs, lazing around in their father’s house with their step-mother yelling at them or in the nearby parks with too much time and money at hand. Thing is: there’s no shop to their liking around to spend all the money.  Sure, there’s online shopping but that’s not the same as parading through bustling streets, sporting several bags of fancy streetwear labels on the arm to be envied by those who can’t afford it. That’s why they’ve begged their father to allow them a trip to NYC. Reluctantly, he had agreed but only under the premise that under no circumstances Curufin is allowed to join.</p><p>They’ve been okay with that; their little brother rather not. ‘I’ll buy you a pair of sneakers, okay?’ Celegorm had laughed, at which Curufin had thrown his phone after him.</p><p>“True enough,” Caranthir agrees, fiddling with his face mask, carefully avoiding to touch his skin with his fingers. “But that’s been long before the virus swapped across the pond.”</p><p>This time when the train jolts, Caranthir isn’t prepared for it. He loses his balance, steadying himself on Celegorm’s shoulder but touches the pole regardless. Immediately, he pulls out a small plastic bottle, bright blue out of his pocket.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake,” Celegorm rolls his eyes. “How often did you sanitize your hands since we hopped on the subway? Four times? Five?”</p><p>“I didn’t count,” Caranthir snaps, pouring a generous amount into his hands, rubbing it in whilst he watches Celegorm licking his lolly, quite obscenely so.</p><p>Celegorm checks his phone. “We’ve got to get off at the next stop,” he states, swiping his finger to the left. “Damn, I want these sneakers so badly.”</p><p>Caranthir narrows his eyes. “Which sneakers?”</p><p>“Gucci Ace, those with the bee,” Celegorm says, holding the screen towards Caranthir.</p><p>Caranthir looks at his brother’s shoes, then back up again, rolling his eyes. “They are almost identical to the ones you got for your birthday last month.”</p><p>“Nah.” Celegorm shrugs the remark off. “They don’t have the bee. Like, aren’t they pretty?”</p><p>Caranthir sighs. “I never said they aren’t.”</p><p>Celegorm grins and in the wake of it, the lollipop falls out of his mouth down onto the floor.</p><p>“Shit,” he curses, then bends down to pick up the lollipop, taking it right into his mouth again without even wiping it off.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, you’re disgusting,” Caranthir spits out, shaking his head in disgust. “Of you even the Coronavirus is scared.”</p><p>He’s realizing too late that he’d been too loud, because gosh, now everybody is looking at them.</p><p>*</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Be like Moryo! Take Covid-19 seriously. #stayhome !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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